[Note: this transcription was produced by an automatic OCR engine]

VAC 89

a stream. The head-wind raises short, sharp, white—
capped waves; shallow banks shine yellow through
the clear water, and the coral reefs are patches of
violet and crimson, and we are delighted by constant
changes, new shades and various colourings, never
without harmony and loveliness. A cloudless sky
bends over the whole picture and shines on the red—
brown bodies of the people, who bustle about their
canoes, adding the bright red of their mats and dresses
to the splendour of the landscape. is

With sudden energy the women have grabbed
the boats and pushed them into the water. The girls
are slim, supple and strong as the young men, the
mothers and older women rather stiff, and usually
‘ hampered by at least one child, which they carry
on their backs or on their hips, while another holds
on to the garment which replaces our skirts. There
is plenty of laughter and banter with the men, who
look on unmoved at the efforts of the weaker sex,
only rarely offering a helping hand.

From the trees and hiding-places the paddles and
the pretty triangular sails are fetched and fastened on
the canoes; then the boats are pushed off and the
whole crowd jumps in. The babies sit in their
mothers’ laps or hang on their backs, perilously close
to the water, into which they stare with big, dark
eyes. By twos and threes the canoes push off,
driven by vigorous paddling along the shore, against
the current. Sometimes a young man wades after a
canoe and joins some fair friends, sitting in front of
them, as etiquette demands. The fresh breeze catches